


Dancing With Ghosts

by Kimmimaru



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Tragedy, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Descent into Madness, Drunk Sex, Friends With Benefits, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Injury, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Ending, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-10-10 11:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20527271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmimaru/pseuds/Kimmimaru
Summary: “Just let go Keith, you don't have to fight anymore. By now, the teams already gone. I saw to it myself!”Kuron destroys Voltron and everyone on board the Castle Ship leaving Keith to seek revenge alongside Matt, together they fall.(no romance as such. Matt and Keith are friends.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please be warned this is not a pleasant fic. Updates will be sporadic as I have so much else going on but wanted to write this down before I lost it. This fic is just pure pain, enjoy. Inspired by 'Jenny's Song' from Game of Thrones because it has been haunting me for a while now.

The bar was quiet. Dimly lit with yellow and green lights that buzzed overhead like annoying insects. The floor was concrete, the bar itself covered in years old graffiti and peeling advertisements. An unilu with a face tattoo stood behind the bar, eyes fixed on a dog-eared magazine while two of it's hands filled glasses with noxiously coloured liquids. The few patrons sat clustered around wobbly tables with gouges and holes in the ancient wood. A hulking creature with pale golden fur sat hunched over the bar, nursing a short glass filled with smoking green liquid. It's curved claws tapping to the rhythm of the discordant music pumping from speakers that whined and crackled around them. Pipes leaked, a water stain spread slowly outward across one wall and dripped down the rotting plaster. There was the strong, overpowering scent of fermented fruit and vomit that seemed to permeate the very furniture.  
  
Another patron sat alone at a tiny table near the bar, head low and covered by a deep hood. Thin fingers clad in black gloves that creaked as they tightened themselves around a chipped glass. A few wayward strands of dark hair curled around a pointed chin, what little skin was visible was pale and smooth. Few of the other patrons even bothered to look twice at the stranger, too involved with their own misery as they drowned themselves in cheap alcohol.  
  
Above the bar was a screen depicting grainy news footage, running on repeat. Empire propaganda with flashing images showing war torn planets; dead civilians and the wounded being tended to in massive hospitals. Then an image of a giant, humanoid mech gripping a large, flaming sword. The word; defeated! Flashed across the screen before it went dark again and started back at the beginning.  
  
The door to the bar opened with a creak, the Unilu looked up and forced a grin that revealed his fangs, “Welcome-” The figure that entered ignored him and walked straight past. He was dressed in a dark greenish cloak with the hood pulled low over his face. He walked over to the other hooded figure and put a hand on the back of his chair, leaning down to whisper in his ear. The other figure tilted his head before he let out a slow breath and rose. He tossed some GAC onto the counter as he strode back towards the door with his friend.  
  
“Thought I'd find you here.” The new man said, tugging at his hood as they stepped out into a deserted street. A lamp flickered nearby, a light rain falling to the tarmac and shimmering rainbow colours. “They asked me where you'd be and I said; the nastiest assed bar you can find.” The man looked at his silent companion as they strode down the road and ducked into a dark alley. They cut past overflowing dumpsters and shattered glass that crunched under their boots. “You know there are better ways to slowly kill yourself than that Unilu piss water.”  
  
His companion shrugged, brushing rain damp hair from his eyes, “Didn't have anything better to do.”  
  
“Oh I dunno, maybe helping to pack the cargo? You know we've got to get back before they leave.”  
  
“Whatever. Let's just go.”  
  
They traipsed through the rain spattered streets, hugging their cloaks tight around themselves as they wove through alley ways until they reached a low, dilapidated building. It had a single door with windows that were boarded up and spattered with graffiti in varying languages. The pair moved to the door and the taller of the two took out a small data pad, it lit up the underside of his face to reveal a thin scar and wide, golden eyes. He hummed before slotting the pad into a small port and the door beeped twice before hissing open. His companion glanced back behind them once before following him inside.  
  
The second the door shut Matt Holt threw his hood back and shed his cloak, he moved across the dark room and tossed the cloth onto a nearby ratty chair. “They'll be here soon to collect the goods then we can get outta this shit hole.” He sighed, rubbing water from his blond hair. He glanced towards his companion again as he saw his figure vaguely illuminated by the flickering lights outside. “Keith?”  
  
“Yeah.” Keith muttered, lifting a shaking hand to pull back his own hood. He turned his gaze to Matt, purple irises set into a haze of gold.  
  
Matt hid his shudder and averted his gaze, “You hungry?”  
  
Keith shook his head, dark brows drawing into a deep frown, “You eat. I'm fine.”  
  
“Keith-”  
  
Keith folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the window casement, he stared out of the slats in the boards and across the street. Matt sighed, shaking his head and muttering under his breath as he went to what passed as a kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. He withdrew a green metallic packet, staring at the image of small round green vegetables. His fingers clenched and he almost burst it. He could feel Keith's eyes on his back like a blade, he hunched his shoulders and tossed the alien peas back into the cupboard. Unable to look at them. His father's voice echoed through time as he found some sort of canned processed food. He rose, ignoring the now familiar burn in his throat as he tossed the can onto the counter and removed a knife from his belt. Keith continued to watch him, eyes unblinking and glowing eerily yellow in the gloom. Matt used his knife to slice through the lid of the can and forced it open with more anger than he'd intended. When it was open he gave the contents a sniff, lip curling in mild disgust.  
  
Keith inhaled, nose wrinkling, “Gurgian berries.” He muttered, turning away and resting his head against the wall again, “They're off.”  
  
“Thanks.” Matt sighed, pushing the can away from him. His empty stomach growled and he hung his head.  
  
Keith made a soft sound of irritation and bared his fangs at the back of Matt's dejected head, “Here,” He strode over and tossed a wrapped bar on the counter before him, “Eat or your stomach'll give away our position.”  
  
Matt snatched up the food with a devious grin, “Thanks, Keith.”  
  
Keith said nothing as he went back to his vigil, fingers tapping against the hilt of his knife restlessly.  
  
They waited. Matt sat at the counter, tapping away on his data pad while Keith remained standing at the window. Finally Matt heard Keith shift and he looked over to him, Keith's hand was on his knife and his eyes were narrowed. Their eyes met across the room and Matt jumped to his feet, snatching a small metal rod from his belt which extended in his hand. He nodded his readiness to Keith and they moved to the door, flanking it. They could hear hushed whispers outside, someone breathing heavily before there was a short, sharp knock.  
  
“Matthew Holt, it's us. Let us in.”  
  
“What's the date written on my grave?” Matt asked, eyes narrowing.  
  
There was a sigh from outside before someone spoke, “Five, eleven, fourteen.”  
  
Matt nodded to Keith who put away his knife and stepped back. Matt carefully opened the door and allowed the three newcomers inside. It was still pouring outside and the sound was loud against their tin roof. The door closed behind them and the rebels spread out, removing their heavy cloaks.  
  
Rolo, looking more haggard than the last time Keith had seen him, looked around their chosen rendezvous with a mild expression. He sniffed and turned to his companions, Nyma rubbed at her new prosthetic arm, her eyes haunted in a way that Keith was intimately familiar with.  
  
“So, you got the goods?” Rolo asked, voice dripping weariness as they made their way to the kitchen counter, “And food? We kinda ran out of supplies when we encountered some patrols out by Kesser five.”  
  
“No food, sorry man.” Matt replied with a shrug, “We just got the munitions like we were asked.”  
  
Nyma turned to look at Keith who had retaken his post by the window, “Hey, it's been a while.”  
  
Keith shrugged one shoulder, not even looking at her.  
  
“He's...” Matt trailed off, “It's been a bad few pheobs.” He said finally, swallowing and looking away. “Boxes are right here, should be light enough to get back to your ship.”  
  
Rolo nodded and stood up again, rolling his sleeves back, “Hey, give us a hand here Jaks.”  
  
Their third companion, a small Arusian, jerked his head up and blinked before nodding and scurrying after Rolo and Matt. Keith was left alone with Nyma, he continued to stare out of the window even as his long, claw-like nails dug into his arms. He could feel Nyma watching him and wished she'd go help her friends and leave him alone.  
  
“We heard about it.” Nyma started, not moving closer from where she leaned up against the kitchen counter, “About Voltron and-”  
  
“Yeah. So's the rest of the universe.” Keith rasped, twitching and holding himself tighter. “Go help your friends.”  
  
Nyma pushed herself away and glanced at him before shaking her head slowly, “I'm really sorry.” She said quietly as she followed Rolo out back.  
  
Keith pressed his forehead against the cool brick and started to take a few deep, steady breaths. Distantly he could feel a familiar pressure against his shoulder, warmth spreading through his body at the contact. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut tighter.  
  
_Keith...  
  
_Keith pressed his lips together, trembling until the sensation passed.  
  
Rolo, the Arusian and Matt returned, talking quietly. Nyma turned to them as Rolo dropped a box at her feet. “These'll last us a while.” He said, rubbing his hands together, “Thanks guys, we'll contact you with our location as soon as we can.”  
  
“Be safe guys.” Matt said quietly, his face drawn and solemn.  
  
“You too.” Rolo nodded and picked up a box, the Arusian followed suit and Nyma grabbed the last one. They opened the door and slipped back out into the night.  
  
“Rolo said the Empire got the Olkari.” Matt said quietly, glancing at Keith, “They were our last hope...”  
  
Keith dropped his head forward, “We lost the moons of Tock last month.” He muttered.  
  
“Lotor's been tightening his grip since he came out of that Quintessence field. Rumour has it that he's gone crazy, like Zarkon.”  
  
“He's always been crazy, Matt.” Keith pushed himself from the wall, “I'm gonna go get some rest. You should too.”  
  
Matt watched him walk to the nearby cots and throw himself down on one, the springs groaned under his weight. “Guess I'll take first watch then,” He sighed and found a rickety old chair, he dragged it to the window and sat to watch for any Galra patrols.  
  
_“Hello Keith,”_  
  
_“Shiro...It's gonna be ok.”_  
  
_ “Yes, I know.”_  
  
_ “We just have to get back to the castle,”_  
  
_ “We...are not going anywhere!”_  
  
_ “That's the Keith I remember!”_  
  
_ “Shiro, I know you're in there. You made a promise once, you told me you'd never give up on me.”_  
  
_ “And I should've abandoned you just like your parents did, they saw that you were broken, worthless. I should've seen it too.”_  
  
_ “I'm not leaving here without you.”_  
  
_ “Actually...neither of us are leaving.”_  
  
_ “Shiro!”_  
  
_ “Shiro, please...you're my brother, I-I love you.”_  
  
_ “Just let go Keith, you don't have to fight anymore. By now, the teams already gone. I saw to it myself!”_  
  
Keith's eyes snapped open. He sucked in a sharp breath and jerked upright. His fingers curled around the wrapped hilt of his knife as he stared around in his panic. The room was dark, shadows encasing everything, turning familiar objects into strange, deformed shapes. He saw a thin, watery light creeping through the slats in the window and illuminating Matt's slumped form. Slowly his heart beat slowed as he regained his bearings. The scar on his cheek burned like it had when it was first inflicted. He reached up, finger tips brushing his cheek and finding the skin wet. He wiped furiously at his face and rose, sheathing his knife and moving to the kitchen. He started to search through cupboards, rattling years old food and empty boxes until his fingers curled around a glass bottle. He withdrew it and frowned at the dusty label. He unscrewed the cap and took a sniff, the scent of alcohol assaulted his nose and he recoiled before bringing the bottle to his lips. His hands shook as he took a few deep swallows. He pulled the bottle away coughing, eyes stinging but he found he could breathe easier again.  
  
Behind him Matt stirred with a groan, “Ughhh my mouth tastes like ass.” He mumbled thickly, smacking his lips as he pushed himself up from his chair. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and yawned, staring at Keith's hunched back. “We've got to get back to the ship,”  
  
Keith nodded slowly and turned, still gripping the bottle in one shaking hand. He downed the rest and tossed the bottle back onto the counter before moving to the small pile of their meagre belongings. Matt watched him, wanting to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder but past experience had taught him Keith wouldn't like it.  
  
They left their little hide out and stepped out into the early morning, the air reeked of rot and pollution and the ground was covered in puddles of oily water. Their boots splashed through them as they set off back through the maze of alleys and found their way to the well-hidden hangar where they'd left their small air craft. Keith tossed his bag into the hold and leapt into the pilots seat, glaring at the Galran controls as they came to life under his hands. Matt settled back into the co-pilots seat and watched Keith prepare them for take off. His hands flew over the controls, the movements second nature. It always impressed Matt when he saw Keith fly and now was no different.  
  
Finally the ship rose, fighting off the pull of gravity with a few judders and whines before streaking off into the sky. They broke atmosphere, leaving the grey-green planet behind in a burst of crimson light. Matt sighed and let his head fall back against the seat, he drew one knee to his chest and closed his eyes.

Ever since news of Voltron's destruction the universe had been slowly crumbling. Emperor Lotor was rarely even seen, the witch Haggar was completely off the radar, many speculating that Lotor had already killed her. The coalition had fallen apart, torn to shreds by Lotor's minions and the ever growing power of The Fires of Purification led by Sendak. The few remaining survivors did what they could but it was becoming a case of survival instead of rebellion. Most were on the run, fleeing empire fleets and pirates alike until they were finally run to ground. The graves were growing, an ever increasing list of names being carved upon the memorials the rebels had built. They had lost everything. Matt opened his eyes and looked to Keith who was staring out at the stars as if they held all the answers, his face was pale, his eyes shadowed and haunted. Matt turned away, swallowing whatever words leapt to his lips as he stared down at the glowing panels before him.  
  
Matt had to admit that at least Keith was speaking now, even if all he got were sharp one-word answers and terse insults; it was better than that agonising silence. Ever since Matt had found him, floating aimlessly through a debris field inside the Black Lion he had been silent, like a ghost. Matt had begged him in the end, on his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. He needed an answer. He needed to know what had happened to his sister. Keith had finally broken, voice grating and harsh as he'd slammed his fists against Black's dying panels. Agony and a hatred so deep Matt could hardly even comprehend it twisting his face into a mockery of what it was. Matt had grabbed his hands, blood sliding down his wrists from where the skin had broken. Keith had managed to admit that it was gone. The castle, the lions. Everyone. Everything.  
  
The clones body had been hard to see. Watching it slowly fade. Watching it's face go white and still. Matt had had to turn away while Keith wrapped the body up in some spare blankets. They had found a broken moon nearby. Keith went out and built a small cairn, burying the body beneath it before returning in silence. He spent the next three weeks that way. Quiet and sleepless. Matt got him to take them to the nearest rebel base, they managed to spread the word of what had happened. Slowly, as the days progressed, they began getting word from other bases of attacks. Sendak was on the hunt. The Black Lion had been seen. So Keith had taken her somewhere safe. A deep cave on some random dead planet. Hidden from everyone. Matt had taken a small rebel ship and watched as Keith sat at her feet, head resting against the metal. He had watched Keith press his face against her. Keith's pained breaths were soon the only sound before he rose, knees shaking and walked past Matt. Matt tried to reach out but Keith had pushed him away.  
  
Keith's last words to the lion haunted Matt's dreams; _Rest girl. Take care of him for me.  
  
_Keith changed that day. His eyes taking on the now familiar yellow glow as he let anger and hatred consume him. He wanted to go out and start his own hunt. Matt joined him, eager to do something..._anything_...to put his sisters soul to rest. They armed themselves and left the rebel base. Set off into the universe to find and kill the witch. Consumed with the fires of revenge Keith changed. He withdrew into himself, drinking as much as he could and barely eating. He hardly slept, Matt assumed because he suffered from horrific nightmares. He only had a vague idea of what had happened, the basic outline of events from start to finish but whatever had happened to Keith on that research facility haunted him every night. Matt had his own nightmares to contend with, memories of terror, memories of watching Shiro's kind face twist into an animalistic snarl as he pinned him to the floor. Memories of his sister, warm at his side as they sat on the roof together for the last time and looked up at the stars.  
  
Matt knew that their journey would only end in death. He wondered many times if it wouldn't be for the best.


	2. Chapter 2

Matt sat curled up in the pilots seat with his knees drawn to his chest. He watched the flickering screen before him, the file half-corrupted so it flickered and flashed. He watched Pidge lean forward, an eager light in her eyes as she discussed alien technology. 

“Anyway I guess I've always had a closer relationship with technology than with other people.”

Matt felt a small, hopeless little smile tug at his lips. He watched her push the glasses further up onto her nose...his glasses. His heart ached as he reached out and his gloved finger tips brushed through Pidge's image. It crackled and pixelated before settling back down and Pidge continued her vlog. Matt closed his eyes, lifting his shaking hands to his face while Pidge talked on. Her image and voice forever immortalised in the only video Keith could get of her from the Black Lion's databases. 

Soft footsteps altered Matt to Keith's presence. He felt him come to a halt behind his chair. 

“She was too young.” Matt whispered hoarsely, finally looking up. The video had frozen on Pidge's smile. 

Keith didn't respond but Matt heard him shift. “We all were.” He continued, letting his legs uncurl as he straightened them out, “Too young and untrained.” He leaned forward and turned the video off, finally turning to Keith. He was gripping the back of the chair so hard Matt could see the indents in the material. Keith's eyes were glazed a little as he stared at the spot the video had been playing. Matt sighed, rubbing at his eyes, “I'm gonna go get some rest.” He muttered and rose, moving around the chair and putting a hand on Keith's. “Come with me.”

Keith blinked, looking down at Matt's hand. Slowly he slid his hand free, “I-”

“You need sleep too.” Matt took him by the hand and drew him away from the cockpit. “Come on, Keith.”

Keith went reluctantly, eyes dropping to his feet. Matt guided him to the bed and pushed him down, he climbed in beside him and dragged the single cover over them both. With a heavy sigh he closed his eyes. “Sleep Keith. I'm right here.”

Keith shivered but made no other sound as Matt let sleep take him. He dreamed of his old home, of sitting on the rooftop beside his sister.

XXX

Keith...

K...ei...th...

Keith rolled away from Matt and squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear his voice, crackled and distant, like a bad transmission. 

Keith.

It was always his name. Repeated over and over, the tone sad and wistful. Keith wished he could blot it out. Ignore it and the pain that always came with it. But he'd never been able to ignore Shiro. Sometimes he could feel him as if he were there, he could feel his warmth, see the kindness in his eyes. Keith hated it. He hated dreaming about him trapped in that never ending expanse of stars, he hated watching him slowly fade with a look of desperation on his face. He hated the forgiveness in the way he said his name.

Keith...K...ei...th....

Keith's hands rose to cover his ears but it was pointless. The voice was inside his head. He shuddered, curling into a tighter ball. He grit his teeth and wished it would stop. He knew that if he opened his eyes he would see him there. Little more than a blurry figure, standing in the shadows. He would stand there, perhaps reach for him but they couldn't touch. Not anymore. Never again would Keith feel Shiro's hand on his shoulder, nor hear his voice whispering to him in his ear. He'd never feel his heart beat or feel his muscles bunch under his hands. Keith cracked open an eye, unable to help himself and sure enough, it was there. The shape was painfully familiar. It lifted a hand, flickering in and out like a badly tuned television. Keith's stomach clenched painfully. He rolled over the edge of the bed and vomited onto the floor. He had so little in his stomach that it was mostly bile. Keith wiped a gloved hand over his lips, averting his eyes from the shadow. He slid out of bed and stepped over the puddle. He stumbled into the wall of the ship and found a box, he yanked open the lid and lifted out a small bottle of Unilu Fire. He pulled the lid off and wrapped his lips around the neck of the bottle. He downed it in one hard pull, pulling it away with a gasp as it burned his throat. His stomach churned as he looked up to see Shiro standing closer. He looked at the bottle in Keith's hand, his brows furrowed before he looked back up to meet Keith's frown.

“Stop it.” Keith growled, fingers tightening on the bottle neck. “Stop. Go away!” He lifted the bottle and threw it with a scream. It flew through the air, straight through Shiro's shadow and shattered against the metal on the other side. Shiro's ghost faded and left behind nothing but shattered glass. Keith stood still, breathing hard as his throat and eyes burned. He bared his teeth in a furious snarl as anger rose, choking off his voice. 

“Keith?”

Keith lowered his head, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. 

Matt stepped closer warily, not raising a hand to touch him. He looked to the shattered bottle and took a deep breath. “You ok?”

Keith shook his head. He wanted to touch him again. There was a deep, burning, all consuming need inside him that would never be satisfied again. He heard Matt move carefully around him and start to clean up. Keith closed his eyes and tried to breathe as his chest ached, his heart breaking apart all over again. 

XXX

“We need fuel.” Matt sighed, staring at the console with empty eyes. “Fuel and a shower.” He amended, wincing and wrinkling his nose. 

“Closest moon settlement's ten varga's away.” Keith replied, his voice cracking. 

“Hm, yeah. Is it free from the Galra?”

Keith snorted, “Nothing's free from the Galra.” He growled.

“Yeah...guess that was a stupid question.” Matt sighed and rubbed at his gritty eyes, “Either way we need supplies and that's our best hope.” 

Keith set the coordinates and then leaned back in his seat, eyes closing.

They spent the next ten varga's in silence.

They arrived on time and limped their ship into the port. They sent fake ID codes and disembarked as soon as they were given permission. Keith kept his hood up and Matt donned a mask he'd received from his rebel friends. Together they slipped into the crowds that bustled too and from the dilapidated market. Keith was tense at Matt's side, his eyes shifting back and forth as he searched for potential threats. Matt led them through the crowds with familiarity, he had been there before with the rebels before Pidge had found him. Now the base was full of Galra security, although they had grown lax over the months since Voltron's destruction. No one checked ID's, no one even looked twice at two cloaked and masked newcomers. Matt counted his lucky stars as they finally found an ancient looking Unilu standing behind a make-shift stall. He had wiry, white hair and his wrinkled face bore the marks of a slave. Matt moved to the stall front and tapped his fingers on the window. The Unilu blinked up at them blearily, squinting suspiciously. “What can I do for you?” He grunted.

“We need fuel for a grade six passenger.” Matt said, the mask disguising his voice.

“Hm, I might have it...for the right price.” The Unilu folded two of his arms across the wooden desk before him while the remaining two came to rest on his hips. He fixed them both with a hard look, “Twenty pheobs of servitude.”

Matt bit back a sigh and rummaged in his pocket, he withdrew a pouch and slapped it on the table, “How about ten thousand GAC?”

The Unilu's bushy eyebrow rose as he opened the pouch and checked the contents, “Now where'd a coupl'a young ones like you two get this kinda currency, huh? Empire chips're worth more than most round here.”

Matt shrugged, “Been saving it up.” He replied dryly, “Now, is it enough to get us what we need?”

The Unilu bounced the pouch in one hand before waving them through the door to his stall, “Come, come. I'll give you what you want.”

“Thanks.” Matt followed the Unilu while Keith remained stationed by the door, brooding and silent.

A few doboshes later and Matt emerged with a tank full of glowing liquid. “One more place to go.” He said and Keith shrugged, following Matt back into the crowds.

They found a stall manned by a small group of Aliens with huge, bug-like eyes and pink tinged skin. They chittered as the two men approached, Matt once again doing the speaking. Keith hung back and watched the market while Matt bartered. Finally he got a supply of food and water that would last them a while and handed over some more of their dwindling supply of GAC. When he was done he turned and Keith led them back towards their ship. Keith's fingers brushed the tip of his knife, dancing along the hilt as his eyes scanned the crowds. He felt eyes on them as they dodged past a small family of Puigian refugees. He looked back over his shoulder and spotted a figure moving towards them. He grabbed Matt's sleeve and tugged, alerting him to the danger.

“How far back?” Matt hissed under his breath. He didn't slow his strides.

“Several paces.” Keith muttered back. Glancing back in time to see their pursuer duck behind an empty stall. “We should get them somewhere where there are less people.”

“Gotcha.” Matt made an abrupt turn, snatching Keith's wrist and dragging him down an alley made by several thick bars of metal. They broke into a run, Keith's fingers curling around Matt's wrist as they fled around another corner. Matt pulled Keith into an alcove and he set down the box of supplies and their fuel. “Ok, what's the plan?”

Keith released a breath, drawing his blade. He rose to his feet and stepped out into full view of their pursuer. “You get back to the ship, I'll deal with this guy.” He dropped into a ready stance and Matt cursed through his teeth.

“Keith!” Matt hissed, rising as well and grabbing for his weapon.

Keith's hood slid from his head, revealing his face. His fangs were bared, eyes flashing gold, “Go!” He shouted and returned his attention back to their pursuer. It was tall, well built and it's limbs were long in a familiar way. It was Galra. A Galra solider dressed in black but lacking the details of the Blade of Marmora. Matt swallowed, fingers twitching before he cursed under his breath, he rose, grabbing their supplies and grabbing Keith's shoulder. He squeezed, digging his gloved finger tips deep into the muscle. “Live.” He demanded, “I'll wait for you.”

Keith took a breath, face softening for such a brief span of time that Matt wondered if he hadn't imagined it. Then he nodded, his frown returning. Matt turned and ran. 

As soon as Matt's footsteps faded a grim smile stretched Keith's lips, “C'mon then,” He whispered under his breath, “Come get me, asshole.”

The Galra jumped into action. He drew his blade and leapt towards him, swinging up high. Keith blocked the blow with a hiss, twisting his wrist and disengaging. He took several paces back, shaking out his hands as he bared his teeth at his enemy. The Galra rolled his shoulders in response but said nothing as Keith came for him.

Their blades clashed over and over. Keith's grunts and the clang of their blades the only sounds. Keith spun, ducked, parried. He raised his boot and kicked the Galra right in the knee, causing him to drop. Keith used the opportunity to slam his blade through the creatures throat. He yanked it back out again, the Galra making a sickening gurgling sound as blood poured from the wound. Keith stood still, panting, sweat beading at his temples and sliding down his throat. He swallowed as the Galra dropped face-first into the floor. Keith wiped his blade on the Galra's clothes before rolling him over and searching his body. He found some left over GAC and a hand-held blaster and took them both before rising and walking away.


End file.
